


3 Months, 3 Days

by InterstellarVagabond



Series: Twisted Code [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor takes a road trip, Original Characters - Freeform, Other, RK800 phantom, rk1k but mostly offscreen, what happened the 3 months and 3 days Connor was gone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 06:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarVagabond/pseuds/InterstellarVagabond
Summary: “So. You gonna tell me where you been?”Connor patted Sumo, his LED turning yellow. Hank chuckled, he’d forgotten what it was like to know what was going on in a person’s head as easy as that.“I went a lot of places,” he said. “I tried to stay out of state. I traveled, I did consultant work whenever I needed money. I saw the Atlantic ocean! And the statue of liberty.”“New York, knew it,” Hank said.“New York, Maryland, Indiana, West Virginia…” Connor said.“Damn, really got around,” Hank said.What Connor did the 3 months and 3 days he was away from home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Four of the names I used in this fic are references to other things and if you guess them all you get my pride and approval
> 
> I was going to write more for the first chapter but uh, as some of you who follow me on tumblr know my work got robbed and my little brother was there when it happened so it's been a stressful night I decided to just finish this bit and post it up (more info on the robbery and how you can help if you wanna lend a hand at my tumblr)
> 
> as always enjoy! Comments appreciated!! Thank you!

**Detroit**

 

Connor knew he had approximately ten minutes to spend gathering his things from Hank’s house. 

 

He packed a backpack with his most human clothes, a few pouches of thirium, a few of the spare parts he’d taken from the workshop just in case he found himself in trouble. 

 

He threw the backpack over his shoulders and was about to leave the room when he saw it, glinting in the sunlight streaming in through the half-covered window, sitting on his dresser. 

 

The badge Hank had given him for Christmas, the day he’d told him the DPD was going to take Connor on as a detective. Connor reached out for it, wondering if he should take it. Logically he knew he should travel light, take only what was necessary, and emotionally he felt he didn’t deserve to take it. 

 

He picked up the badge and made his decision. He went to Hank’s bedroom and found the lock box where Hank kept his gun. Figuring out the combination was child’s play, Connor had done it long ago. Connor opened the box and placed his badge inside, figuring if Hank ever opened this box again, Connor could be there at least in spirit to make sure it wasn’t to cause harm to himself. 

 

Connor replaced the box and then made his exit, hailing a cab while still not knowing where he was going. He couldn’t stay, he knew that. He’d taken the place Hank and Markus had built for him, for the new deviant Connor, and he’d destroyed it. His hands still shook when he thought about how he’d shot Hank, and he felt phantom pains that shouldn’t have been possible in his wrists where he’d been restrained. 

 

The cab drove without destination until Connor made his decision. He directed it towards the airport. 

 

**New York**

 

“Christ, you hate to see this.”

 

Captain Adrian Spencer eyed up the crime scene before him with a sour expression and a toothpick dangling from his jaws. At his side was Detective Waverly, flipping open her notebook. It was vintage, leatherbound and real paper and she was fiercely protective of it. Spencer wondered what would happen when she ran out of pages. 

 

“Looks like a hit and run,” she said, gesturing towards the corpse lying in the street. They were still working on getting the area fenced off, officers pushing gawkers away and setting up barriers. “Drunk driver?”

“Maybe,” Spencer said, chewing on his toothpick. “If they could get the damn tourists out of the way maybe we could actually see. Hey, you, c’mon get out of the way we’re trying to examine a body here.”

 

Spencer approached a man with a baseball cap pulled low over his head, who had suddenly paused in his walk to kneel by the body. For a second Spencer swore he saw the man licking his fingers, and that was the last thing he needed some kind of creep contaminating his crime scene. 

 

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer grabbed the guy’s shoulder and pulled him away. “You want me to slap you in cuffs?”

 

“Why would I want that?” the man said, cocking his head to the side. 

 

“Alright, smartass, let’s go,” Spencer said, but the man held up his hands in a gesture of peace and started talking. 

 

“It wasn’t a hit and run.”

 

“What?” Spencer huffed, rolling his eyes. 

 

“The woman, she wasn’t killed here,” the man said. 

 

“Sir, you want me to take care of this?” Waverly offered, gesturing to the man her captain still hadn’t let go of yet. 

 

“Hang on, let’s hear what Sherlock Holmes has to say,” Spencer snickered. The man nodded graciously, not picking up on the sarcasm. 

 

“Her clothes have carpet fibers on them, see?” he said, one of his hands coming into view with a tuft of white. “As if she was wrapped in one. And her injuries, she sustained a traumatic blow to the head but is otherwise uninjured. If she were hit by a car she would have several other fractures.”

 

“Okay, great deductions, Sherlock, now move along,” Spencer said, patting the man on the back. The man was reluctant to be lead away, he turned back towards the crime scene and kept talking. 

 

“Wait! If you check his memory you’ll see!”

 

“What?” Spencer asked. “What the fuck does that mean?”

 

“The android,” the man said, pointing across the street towards an android repair shop. There was an android sitting just in front of the window, nodding as a technician tested his joints.

 

“...you think he saw it?” Spencer asked. 

 

“He was in low-power mode there overnight for cognitive repairs,” the man said. “He wouldn’t be aware of it without checking his memories but… he would have seen it.”

 

“...how do you know that?” Spencer asked suspiciously. 

 

“...I work there,” the man replied. “I repair androids I checked him in yesterday.”

 

Spencer shot Waverly a look, and then slowly let go of the man’s jacket. “Elisa, go check it out.”

 

“On it,” Waverly said, flipping her notepad closed and tucking it away in her jacket before striding towards the repair shop. 

 

“What’s your name, son?” Spencer asked, looking up the strange man that had finished investigating a crime scene in less than a minute. 

 

“Connor,” he said. “Connor Asimov.”

  
  
  


Connor read about the arrest of one Raymond Kepler for the murder of his wife, sitting in his hotel room with his yellow LED visible as he rarely let it be. He’d considered removing it to help him blend in, but he was reluctant to. He’d had it his whole life, who could blame him for getting attached?

 

There was a knock at the door, and Connor reached for a beanie to pull over the aforementioned light. He answered the door, unsurprised to see Detective Waverly. 

 

“It’s Connor, right?” she asked, fiddling with a pen. 

 

“That’s right,” Connor said. Then he realized he should probably step aside and invite her in, rather than wait for her to issue a request or order. “Would you like to come in?”

 

“Thanks.” Waverly stepped inside, eyeing up the sad state of the hotel room. The ancient stained carpet and the nightstand held together by duct tape. “You know they call this place Bedbug’s Paradise, right?”

 

Connor, who had nothing to fear from insects which prey on human blood, shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of money at the moment.”

 

“Android repairs not paying much?” Waverly asked.

 

“I was fired,” Connor said hastily, remembering the excuse he had given at the crime scene earlier for knowing why he knew the android in the window. He’d scanned him from the crime scene and determined the length of time his repairs would have taken. 

 

“Oh, bad luck,” Waverly said. “So… you’re in need of a job then?”

 

Connor couldn’t hide the interest that lit up in his eyes. “Are you offering me a job, detective?”

 

Waverly looked Connor over like she wasn’t quite sure of him yet. Then she pulled her notepad out of her jacket and flipped it open. “Two men. No sign of struggle no injuries anywhere on them, apparently dead for no good reason...”

 

“Illness.” Connor shook his head, the interest fading. 

 

“I did say no good reason didn’t I?” Waverly said. “Completely clean.”

 

“Hm.” Connor considered. He was running out of money, he technically could live on the streets though he did not want to. Not to mention a part of him had missed his work. Stumbling upon that crime scene earlier had been incredible. However, he was trying to keep a low profile… having his name listed as consulting on a case, even his amended name, could be a trail of breadcrumbs to follow. “I… might be interested.”

 

That was the first of fifteen cases Connor consulted on for the NYPD. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and rewrote this chapter forever and then sat on it for days and I'm still not 100% satisfied with it but I'm running out of steam and I think I'm just gonna post it and get it over with and try to do better with the next chapter
> 
> it sucks though cause I have this really vivid image of Waverly in my head and I love her to death and I wanted to do better with her and even bring her into later fics like visiting Connor in Detroit tho that may just be self indulgent and not something people wanna read anyway asdlkfjas;lkj
> 
> tl;dr sorry for the bad chapter, hitting a rough spell I'll try to do better next time

**New York**

 

“Hey, Connor, think fast!”

 

Connor twisted around, throwing up a hand just in time to catch the bagel that had been thrown at him. Poppy seeds rained down onto his clothes from the impact.

 

“Good morning Detective Waverly,” Connor said to the snickering woman who had thrown a bagel at him from across the bullpen. 

 

“Hats are against the dress code,” Waverly said, tapping the beanie on Connor’s head. 

 

“I am not an official employee, I do not wear a uniform,” Connor replied.

 

“If it weren’t for this I’d think you were completely bald under there,” Waverly said, tugging on a few loose strands of dark hair that had come loose from Connor’s hat. She laughed again when Connor showed no reaction to his hair being pulled. 

 

“C’mon, now that you’ve got breakfast let’s go,” Waverly said. “We’ve got a whole city to search, and a day to waste.”

 

Connor took a bite of the bagel. Pretending he needed food was part of his disguise. Androids weren’t as common across the country as they were in Detroit, and so he’d chosen to appear human for the time being. Androids were noticeable, and they were also targets. 

 

While the DPD had several androids on staff even before androids earned the right to jobs and wages, the NYPD didn’t even have one. Well, as far as they knew. 

 

Connor decided he liked Detective Waverly. She was prone to waves of great energy followed by waves of calm. She had no concept of personal space and a fondness for rock music that made Connor feel homesick. She was listening to a song from the 1980s as they drove, her hand tapping on the steering wheel as they went. While Connor was tempted to liken the human-driven car to his past as well, he had to remind himself that the state of New York had outlawed autonomous cars. It wasn’t even coincidence. 

 

Connor sat in the passenger seat, trying to adopt a casual posture. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and for a split second he saw it just behind him. The RK800 that had haunted his mind during the period in which Kamski worked to separate the code that was him and the code that was Cyberlife. Connor refused to shudder. Androids did not see things that were not there. 

 

“Why the coin? Waverly asked, gesturing to bit of silver flashing across Connor’s knuckles. He flicked it up once, catching it in the palm of his hand. 

 

“Why the lighter?” He asked her in return as Waverly twirled a lighter in her fingers. She gave him a look, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her jacket and sticking one in her mouth. 

 

“I thought it was obvious?” she said around the cigarette, lighting it. 

 

“Smoking is very bad for you,” Connor said with a tilt of his head. “You shouldn’t do that.”

 

“It’s so bad for me but it feels so good,” Waverly smirked, taking a puff and rolling down her window to spare Connor the secondhand smoke. “Allow me my bad habits, Connor, I have so few of them.”

 

“Smoking, sugar, lack of sleep,” Connor listed off with a smirk. 

 

“I said allow not list out and criticize, damn,” Waverly laughed, playfully shoving Connor, whose smirk grew. “So, we’ve got plenty of time driving around the city like a couple of idiots on this wild goose chase. Why don’t you finally tell me your tragic backstory?”

 

“My what?” Connor asked. 

 

“The reason you’re in New York in the shittiest hotel for miles with no friends or family in sight,” Waverly said. “You’re no tourist, you’re no local either, I figure you’re a runaway.”

 

If Connor was human he would have sweated. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

 

“I’m a detective, dumbass,” Waverly laughed. “I notice things for a living. They didn’t give me this badge for being really good at darts.”

 

“Are you really good at darts?” Connor asked innocently. 

 

“Not as good as you are at deflecting,” Waverly said, chewing on the filter of her cigarette and raising an eyebrow at Connor. 

 

Connor sighed, returning to his coin tricks. “Truthfully, there’s not much to tell,” he lied. “I simply needed a change of pace.”

 

“Something tells me you didn’t get much of a change,” Waverly said. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Connor,” Waverly shot him a look. “You know your way around police work a little too well to just be some savant crime solving consultant.”

 

“I watch a lot of cop shows,” Connor replied conversationally. “Have you seen  _ CSI: Houston _ ? I really like that show. It’s full of excitement.”

 

“You know what you’re full of?”

 

“No. What?”

 

Waverly never got a chance to figure out if Connor was being sarcastic or oblivious, because that’s when a truck ran a red light and collided with the passenger side of Waverly’s car.

  
  
  


When Connor came back online, his vision was shaking and full of static. Error messages blinked in and out of existence warning him about damaged biocomponents and the rate at which he was losing thirium. He tried to get up and his vision went black for approximately 2.05 seconds as every biocomponent in his body screamed in the android equivalent of pain. It was complete data overload, and he was dying. 

 

“Connor!”

 

He managed to turn his head, saw Waverly crawling towards him. He scanned her, saw she’d sustained two broken ribs and a slight head injury among a dozen scrapes and cuts one of which was bleeding from her forehead down to her chin, but was otherwise remarkably unharmed. He wondered how she’d managed to remain so unscathed. 

 

Waverly grabbed Connor, and pulled. He was dimly aware of two facts: one, they were out of the car. This must not have been the first time Waverly had to move him. Two, they were being shot at. 

 

Waverly grunted at the effort of moving Connor, pulling him behind a nearby car, not hers. Hers was a smoldering mess in the middle of the intersection. Connor forcibly closed the warnings in his vision and scanned the area for their attackers. It was the truck, big enough to have sustained minimal damage from the collision. They’d gone out looking for the killers and the killers had found them. 

 

“Shit,” Waverly hissed, another of her shots going wide. Connor suspected it was the head trauma, affecting her aim. He reached over and took her gun. 

 

“I need you to help me,” he said, his voice mechanical. “I can aim, but my movement is limited.”

 

Waverly nodded, once again helping to lift Connor until he was high enough to aim. She held him as steady as she could as Connor fired, once, twice, three times. 

 

Each bullet hit its target, leaving the attackers wounded but alive. Waverly released Connor as gently as she could, and he let his eyes close. He could hear her calling for backup as his thirium dwindled to 15%. 

 

“Hey, hey,” Waverly shook Connor. “Come on none of that. Stay awake, stay focused.”

 

Connor groaned, and his hand went to his pocket for his coin before he remembered he’d had it in his hand when the accident happened. Memories of the accident replayed in his head, he could see the coin flying from his fingers as he calculated Waverly’s rate of survival. The odds were low, so Connor removed his seatbelt and wrapped himself around her as the truck sent their little car rolling. 

 

“Here.” Waverly pressed something into Connor’s hand. A moment’s investigation told him it was her lighter. He flicked it once, watching the flame, then started twirling it in his fingers. He felt Waverly’s hands search his body, finding the largest crack and pressing down on it.

 

“No,” he said weakly. “No good. Not…” he realized he was about to say ‘not human’ and that reminded him that he was currently leaking blue-blood all over the place. That his torso had gone stark white, the damage retracting his skin. She knew now, she knew he was an android. She was going to leave him here, he was damaged she would abandon him. 

 

_ “Another one, send it out,” a Cyberlife worker in a white coat said. Connor, back from the dead again stepped forward to be examined and cleared. _

 

“Your fear is unnecessary, you have failed your mission,” the RK800 whispered in his ear. Androids do not hallucinate. Androids do not see phantoms.

 

“Connor, focus!” Waverly patted his cheek. “What do I need to stop the bleeding?”

 

“Needs to be sealed,” Connor said. Waverly looked around, her eyes falling on the burning car. She spared a moment to remove Connor’s shirt before she ran towards it, and when she came back she was holding a piece of metal with a red hot tip. She cauterized the wound, seeming surprised when Connor didn’t scream in pain from the heat. 

 

“Sorry, fresh out of duct tape and superglue,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Fuck there’s a lot of this stuff…”

 

“I… have lost a lot, yes,” Connor said. 

 

“We’ll get you more don’t worry, the worst is over,” Waverly squeezed Connor’s shoulder. Connor let his head fall to rest on her hand. 

  
  
  


Connor was fully repaired in a matter of hours. He had decided to return to the precinct against his better judgement to find Detective Waverly. She’d needed her own medical attention, and to give her statement. No one had asked Connor for his statement, in fact once the other officers had seen him hanging off Waverly’s arm bleeding blue none of them had had anything to say to him. 

 

When he walked into the building people who had been happy to see him all month, who had made jokes with him and commended him for his work, gave him a wide suspicious berth. He made his way to Waverly’s desk, sitting down to wait for her. He pulled her lighter out of his pocket and toyed with it awhile, trying to ignore the whispers from all around him. 

 

“Hey, heads up.”

 

He felt knuckles rap lightly against his head, and turned to see Waverly behind him. She wasn’t faring as well as him, bandaged here and there and clearly still in pain. She couldn’t just be repaired and sent back to work, she wasn’t expendable like he…

 

Like he used to be.

 

“I came to say goodbye,” Connor said, holding out her lighter. She looked at Connor with a patient smile and slowly closed his hand around it. 

 

“Just like that?” she asked. “One bad day and you take off?”

 

“I don’t think I should stay, I don’t think I’m… welcome,” Connor said. 

 

“What, those assholes?” Waverly scoffed. “Ignore them. They’ve just never seen an android before in their lives. We’ve got what, all of ten in the whole city?”

 

“You didn’t have a problem with me,” Connor said, his brown eyes softening into that gaze that could make hardened criminals melt. “You weren’t even surprised.”

 

“Connor. Detective.” Waverly tapped the badge at her hip. “Not that you were subtle about it. The hats, really so many hats all the time.”

 

“I could never bring myself to get rid of this,” Connor admitted, fingers sliding under his cap to run over the ring of red light he’d hidden. 

 

“Or to stop being a cop,” Waverly sighed. “Change of pace my ass.”

 

“You looked me up,” Connor pouted. 

 

“No,” Waverly said. “I asked for you tragic backstory for a reason, I wasn’t about to go snooping around behind your back. I just know a cop when I see one. You want a change of pace, Connor, maybe try another line of work for awhile. But just awhile okay? You’re too good a cop and I think you enjoy it like, a lot.”

 

Connor nodded, a guilty smile on his face. 

 

“Where will you go?” Waverly asked. 

 

“I don’t know yet,” Connor answered honestly. Waverly nodded, hands on her hips. Then she pulled out her wallet and started removing bills.

 

“Detective,” Connor sighed. 

 

“You’re lucky I’m old fashioned, I still carry cash,” Waverly said. “Take it.”

 

“No.”

 

“Connor, you saved my life the least I can do is help you out financially take the damn money.”

 

Connor reluctantly accepted the bills, folding them carefully. “I will miss you, detective.”

 

“Elisa,” she corrected him. “I mean, if you want. I don’t mind answering to detective.”

 

Connor felt homesick all over again. He thought to himself that Hank and Elisa would have gotten along. It was too bad he’d never get to introduce them. He couldn’t go back. Not to Hank, and not to Elisa. He had to keep moving forward. 

 

“Take care of yourself, Connor.” Waverly pulled off his hat and mussed his hair thoroughly before turning the cap around backwards and putting it back on Connor’s head. He straightened his hat again and nodded. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to my home state Connor, the one place in this story I can write with the most confidence. West Virginia won't be too too hard either but not as easy as my good ol birthstate 
> 
> since I'm already drawing from my personal life I threw in some of my clerk experiences as well. And yes, all those regulars are based on assorted real life regular customers I know though I've mixed most of them together and changed their names obviously. 
> 
> shoutout to manuscriptor who reminded me I forgot all about Sumo in chapter one T_T and callout to me for struggling so bad to write but going ahead and publishing two chapters in one day anyway without going over them again for quality control

**Maryland**

 

Trevor stepped outside once the crowd of customers thinned enough that Maria could handle them long enough for him to vape and eat and something. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to take his break or eat where the customers could see him but technically the district manager hadn’t stopped by this particular gas station in two months so he figured he’d be safe. Besides, out front is where all the regulars liked to loiter (another broken rule in the eyes of corporate) and Trevor liked to talk to them.

 

“Poor sucker must come from a full service state,” Rob chuckled, watching as a customer stared in dismay at the gas pump. Rob was the oldest of the gathered group, an avid drinker of decaf coffee, and occasional wingman to Trevor whenever he ‘saw a guy he thought was his type.’ Next to him was Sara, a woman in her late thirties who liked to take her pet ball python on walks with her.  Then there was Dale, the ultimately harmless but slightly unsettling town drunk who bought up all the scratch offs the day they came in. At the very end of the line, having a staring contest with Sara’s snake was a new regular who’d just joined the loitering lineup in the past couple weeks. 

 

“I heard further north they have stations where androids pump the gas for you,” Sara said, sipping her coffee. “Can you imagine?”

 

“Nah, that’s bullshit, androids are super expensive and high-tech why would they make them work a job like that?” Rob said. 

 

“No, it’s true,” the newcomer said, still staring down Sara’s snake. Trevor took a hit off his vape and watched the newcomer. He was an odd one alright. He never drank the coffee or bought cigarettes so that alone made him a strange regular. He didn’t buy much, a candy bar now and then but mostly nothing. 

 

“Oh, you’ve seen ‘em Connor?” Rob asked. 

 

“Course he has,” Dale said in a thick southern accent. “Connor’s from up north, ain’t he?”

 

“No shit,” Rob laughed. “Android pump attendants. I thought androids were just for rich families that don’t wanna look after their house or kids.”

 

“Androids were accessible to many different economic levels,” Connor said with a tilt of his head. 

 

“Yeah, well not here,” Dale said. “Ain’t no one got the money for a fancy metal man here. Not that ya can buy ‘em anymore anyway.”

 

“Well, that’s good right?” Trevor said. “I read about that Markus guy online, he made a lot of good points.”

 

Connor nodded, but Trevor swore he saw him frown. 

 

There was something about the guy. He hung outside the store basically all day as if he was immune to boredom, only occasionally coming in to play scratch offs. He didn’t seem to be the lottery sort, in fact if Trevor had to put money on it he would bet that Connor just needed quick cash. 

 

“Hey, Trev, I got a propane exchange can you come watch the front?” Maria leaned out the doors to say. With that, Trevor had to stop his musing on the newest addition to the deadbeat crew of the Quick Shop.

 

It wasn’t until later that night that he thought of Connor again, and it was because he found him hiding out behind the dumpsters.

 

“Uh…” Trevor looked at Connor, a garbage bag still in his hand. “You’re not… doing drugs back here, right? Cause if you are I won’t narc or anything but like… you should find somewhere else.”

 

“No!” Connor said quickly. “No drugs.”

Trevor looked around awkwardly. “Well we’re closing for the night so…” 

 

“Yes,” Connor answered, reaching up towards his neck to straighten a tie that wasn’t there, and awkwardly brushing his fingers down the front of his turtleneck instead. 

 

Trevor took in the evidence. The backpack resting against the fence, the shady answers, the warm clothes even as the weather started growing warmer. 

 

“You… don’t have anywhere to go… do you?” Trevor sighed. Connor smiled sheepishly. 

 

“I am aware that I am technically loitering and that if I continue this behavior you will have to report me to the police…” he started saying, but Trevor opened the dumpster and tossed the garbage bag in before waving his hand dismissively at Connor.

 

“We… we don’t do that here, look uh, you can sleep at my place tonight, alright?” he said. “Just let me lock up.”

 

Connor sighed in relief, not from having a place to stay exactly, but more from having a new direction. Technically, he didn’t really need a place to sleep. He could charge standing up, he was resistant to most weather, he’d been managing just fine behind the convenience store ever since his money ran out but if there was one thing getting to him it was the boredom. The purposelessness. 

 

Waverly had told him to get a change of pace, so he went to a small town. Now he was wishing he was back in a crime filled city with something to do.

 

When Trevor came back, Connor was waiting with his backpack slung over one shoulder. “I’m ready to go. Thank you.”

 

“Yeah, no problem,” Trevor said, wondering why the hell he was letting a stranger into his home. He was going to end up axe murdered. His roommates were going to end up axe murdered. Just cause the hobo living behind the dumpsters had puppy dog eyes and pouty lips like Trevor had never seen. 

 

Trevor noticed that as soon as Connor got in the car he was touching and looking at everything. The beads hanging from the mirror, the one-hitter sitting in the cupholder, the empty bottles of soda at his feet. Trevor really hoped the guy was just nosey and not judging the secondhand car he hadn’t cleaned in months. 

 

He soon figured out it was the former, as Connor pestered him with questions the whole way home. 

 

“Do you live alone?”

“No, there’s two other people, Tori and Matt.”

 

“And what do they do for a living?”

 

“Uh, Tori’s a florist in training and Matt like… has a blog I think?”

 

The questions finally ended when they pulled up at Trevor’s place. Connor followed him inside, only to meet Goliath.

 

“Oh, shit, Goliath get down!” Trevor hissed, trying to keep quiet. The house was dark so he figured his roommates were already asleep and didn’t need to get woken up by him yelling at the pug that was currently attempting to leap into Connor’s arms. “I’m sorry about him he’s… uh… he’s…”

 

Trevor watched, amazed, as Connor scooped Goliath up in his arms and all but buried his face in the dog’s side. 

 

“Oh. You like dogs huh?” Trevor asked. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you… crying?”

 

“.... no.”

 

“Dude,” Trevor said, with just enough of his wits about him to put a hand on the shoulder of the man crying into his dog. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Connor sniffled and pulled his head away. He started petting Goliath, who had happily wriggled comfortably into Connor’s arms. “It’s just… I miss my dog.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Trevor said. “What happened to him?”

 

“Nothing… as far as I know,” Connor’s lip trembled in a way that Trevor thought was just plain unfair. “I mean he’s not really my dog he’s my… dad’s dog, I haven’t seen him since I left… home and he’s kind of old and… I didn’t really say goodbye.”

 

“That’s pretty heavy.” Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. “Well you’re more than welcome to cuddle with Goliath he’s an attention whore and I’m never enough for him.”

 

Goliath barked as if in agreement, stubby tail wagging as he licked Connor’s fingers. Connor smiled fondly down at the dog, scratching him behind the ears. Connor still felt bad about forgetting about Sumo in his rush to leave before Hank came looking for him. The old dog must have been napping when he came in otherwise he would have bounded over to Connor the way he always did when he first got home. Connor wondered if Hank was remembering to feed him regularly. There was an image in his mind that never truly went away of Hank passed out drunk on the floor amongst the broken splinters of what had once been a window and a torn open bag of dog food. Sumo and Hank had to take care of each other now that Connor wasn’t there to take care of them. 

 

Connor felt a pang of guilt. He should be there taking care of them, but how could he be? After what he did to Hank how could he be trusted to keep him safe?

 

“You alright?” Trevor asked again, and Connor realized he’d been standing there thinking for awhile. 

 

“Yes,” he answered. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Okay well, you can sleep on the couch,” Trevor said, gesturing towards the comfortable looking bit of furniture. There was already a quilt hanging off the back and a few decorative pillows as well. “I don’t work till real late… uh as you know, so if you need a ride somewhere in the morning I can give you a lift.”

 

“Thank you. This is very generous of you,” Connor said, thinking hard about where it was he could go if anywhere. 

 

“Just promise me you’re not a serial killer or a thief, alright?” Trevor said, only half joking. 

 

“I promise,” Connor answered very seriously. Trevor laughed nervously. 

 

“Alright, dude, well I’m beat… you and Goliath enjoy the couch.” Trevor gave a half wave, backing up towards the stairs. He nearly tripped over the first stair and recovered with another nervous laugh before turning and going to his room. Connor, left alone in the dark living room with a couch and a dog, thought back to the first night he had spent at Hank’s house in much the same way.

 

He put Goliath down on the couch, switching out his jeans and heavy jacket for some sweatpants out of his backpack. He took off the beanie too, trusting his internal clock to wake him before any of the humans woke up. His LED added a soft glow to the room, and Goliath immediately climbed up Connor to lick at the strange new light. Connor smiled softly at the dog, putting a hand on him. 

 

When Connor finally laid down he found himself unable to ‘sleep.’ He kept seeing the same phantom of the RK800 in the corner of his eyes. He ran a quick diagnostic, just as he had been every night since he left New York. Kamski had to have forgotten some strand of code, some small program in the corner of his mind. Why else would he be seeing himself, cold-faced and sinister in every dark corner? Connor forced himself to close his eyes, drawing comfort from Goliath’s weight on his chest and the fact that this time the RK800 was not speaking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trevor: great another meth-head digging through the trash our society/health care system is broken and I'm in danger
> 
> Connor: *puppy dog eyes*
> 
> Trevor: oh no he's hot, please come home with me stranger


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just adding a short chapter cause this bit felt kinda like a quick fragment, I'm not done with this portion of the story yet there will be more going on here but I figured I'd just throw this tiny bit up and start fresh with the rest of the story next time
> 
> I feel like I'm losing my grip on characterization T_T I need to do a quick dbh playthrough and get a feel for the characters again but when will work and depression allow huh?
> 
> thanks again to everyone commenting you're the real mvp's especially for reading such an oc heavy story as this one I promise there's gonna be Connor, Markus, Hank, and Sumo interactions at the end of it all

  
  
  


**Maryland**

 

Tori Montressor woke up at 8 a.m. on the dot to get ready for work. She showered, dressed, and went into the kitchen to grab herself a quick breakfast. It was in the kitchen that she came across a beautiful stranger making bacon and eggs in her frying pan. 

 

“... hello,” she said, casually putting her hands on one of the stools at the breakfast bar ready to either sit and eat or fight off a dangerous stranger depending on how they answered.

 

Connor turned around, and gave his best programmed smile which was still a little bit forced looking. “Good morning! Trevor let me sleep on the couch last night, I wanted to make myself useful in return.”

 

It was at that moment that Matt wandered into the kitchen for his morning snack before returning back to bed, yawning and scratching at his bedhead. When he smelled bacon he opened his eyes and took in the scene before him.

 

“Tori I thought your boyfriend was blonde,” he said. 

 

“This is not my boyfriend, this is Trevor’s boyfriend,” Tori replied. 

 

“I’m Connor,” Connor said helpfully. “I am not Trevor’s boyfriend.”

 

“You can be my boyfriend if you keep that bacon coming,” Matt said, snatching a piece off the plate on the counter. 

 

“So what’s your deal, Connor?” Tori asked. “How did you come to find yourself on our couch last night?”

 

“Trevor thought it would be better than behind the dumpsters,” Connor said honestly, not clarifying anything. Goliath barked up at Connor, walking in a figure eight around his legs. Connor took a small piece of bacon and looked at Goliath seriously. 

 

“You may have this one. Too much will make you sick.” he held the bacon out and let Goliath snatch it out of his hands.

 

“Oh no, the big guy’s already got you whipped,” Matt snickered. 

 

“Yeah, he’ll have way more bacon before the day is through,” Tori said. “And I on the other hand will take some to go because I have to get to work. Matt, make sure to tease Trevor double for me about this.”

 

Matt saluted with the bacon he was chewing on, and winked at Connor. Tori hastily wrapped up some breakfast on her way out as Matt continued to watch Connor.

 

“Connor, do you like video games?” he asked.

 

“I do,” Connor answered. 

 

Matt took another bite and then gestured for Connor to follow him back to his room. 

  
  


Trevor woke up around one in the afternoon as he usually did. He stumbled downstairs and started the coffee maker. He could hear Matt gaming like he usually did, and Tori had probably already left for work so why did he feel like something was off?

 

_ Oh shit, Connor. _

 

“How did you do that? Holy shit!” Matt yelled from his room, and Trevor ran over to the door, bursting through to see two pairs of three hundred dollar gaming chairs turned towards the flat screen with Matt and Connor sitting in them side by side. Both of them were wearing headsets, controllers in their hands, but while Matt was yelling and spinning in his chair like usual Connor was sitting with quiet determination. 

 

“Trev, this guy is my new best friend,” Matt said when he noticed him standing in the doorway. “We’re keeping him right?”

 

“They’re flanking us,” Connor warned, drawing Matt’s attention back to the game. 

 

“Oh shit,” Matt started pressing buttons at rapid fire pace. “Trev, you wanna bring us home some sodas when you come home from work?”

 

“What?” Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean us? I was gonna take Connor wherever he-”

 

Matt and Connor both turned to Trevor with puppy dog eyes. Connor’s were much more effective. Trevor sighed. 

 

“Fine. Send me the cash.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Trev. C’mon Connor we got a raid to finish,” Matt said. 

 

“I left breakfast for you in the kitchen,” Connor said to Trevor, somehow turning away from the screen while still playing. It was kinda eerie in Trevor’s opinion how he somehow knew what was going on in the game with his eyes on him. Trevor just nodded and went to go find this aforementioned breakfast which, admittedly, was good enough to warrant Connor overstaying his welcome. 

 

And that was the beginning of how Connor came to be the temporary fourth roommate in Trevor’s life. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: how do I describe the synth skin and hair androids have? *does a quick google*  
> wiki: androids are equipped with a synthetic fluid which simulates their hair and skin  
> me: huh. fluid. Hm. don't like that.
> 
> all of y'all complimenting my ocs are not just double valid but also reassuring me that my original works may one day succeed thank you <3 I'm so glad you like them. And thank you so much to everyone who comments, your comments sustain me and keep me writing.

**Maryland**

 

The sound of sci-fi violence rang out in the living room as three roommates battled each other for supremacy in the newest fighting video game. The fourth and most unofficial roommate was entering the living room from the kitchen, balancing three plates one in each hand and one on his arm. 

 

“Thanks, Con,” Tori said, taking her sandwich from Connor. 

 

“Just put it in my mouth I’m gonna fucking cream these casuals!” Matt said, as Connor snorted and put the plate next to him. 

 

“Why is Connor slaving away while we play games, again?” Trevor asked, reluctantly taking his own meal. 

 

“Because he doesn’t pay rent.”

 

“Doesn’t pay rent.”

 

“I don’t pay rent, and I don’t mind.”

 

Trevor rolled his eyes.

 

“Besides, I’m up in the next round,” Connor said, taking a seat on the couch next to Trevor. 

 

“You’re not eating?” Trevor asked, and Connor realized he hadn’t made himself anything. 

 

“I’m not hungry,” he said quickly.

 

Ever since New York he had been taking precautions to make himself look as human as possible. He still couldn’t bring himself to remove his LED, he’d decided that would stay with him, but he had allocated some of the synthetic fluid that made up his skin and hair to lengthen his hair enough to cover it. Normally, making himself unnoticable was a simple enough feat. He was programmed for it amongst many other things. However, something about living with these humans in their early twenties had put him just enough at ease as to become sloppy. 

 

He was learning that was one thing about being deviant he did not like. He could feel at ease, and therefore could make even more mistakes than when he was a machine. Emotions muddled everything, and gave Connor the ability to feel annoyed at his own capacity to feel. 

 

Well, at least his feelings let him have fun playing video games with his three friends well into the night. 

 

“Ugh, that’s it, I’m done,” Tori sighed, tossing her controller aside. “I need to sleep or I’ll sleep right through my alarm tomorrow.”

 

“Coward, guess Connor, Trev, and I will keep it going,” Matt said, taking a swig from his soda. 

 

“No, you have to get up early tomorrow too, remember?” Tori said. 

 

“What? No I- ow! Jesus!” Matt swore as Tori threw an elbow into his side. “Fuck, alright, bedtime god. Guess I should get out of my binder anyway.”

 

“Night, boys,” Tori said, shooting Connor and Trevor a two-fingered salute. 

 

“Goodnight,” Connor said politely as Matt and Tori made their exit. Noticing Trevor stiffen next to him, Connor ran a quick scan and found his heart rate elevated. This seemed to be normal for Trevor, and Connor often wondered if he suffered from some form of anxiety. 

 

In the darkened room, Connor pulled his legs up close to his chest and set his controller aside. He watched Goliath napping on the floor and wondered what Hank and Sumo were up to right now. Maybe Sumo was asleep on Hank’s lap as Hank slowly drifted off in front of the TV. 

 

And what about the others Connor had left behind?

 

Was North down in the gym, sparring with a training dummy? Fowler was probably yelling at someone, most likely Detective Reed. Josh was probably up to his chin in paperwork, though maybe Simon was helping. Detective Miller would have put his son to bed long ago, would probably be relaxing now. Markus… was probably playing the piano, having a moment to himself. Connor wondered what song was formed under his fingertips that night, what emotion pulled Markus’s face into one of his beautiful expressions. 

 

“Done with the game?” Trevor asked.

 

“Yes,” Connor answered. “I think so.”

 

Trevor nodded and started gathering up the controllers. He set them all on the entertainment center, switching off the game console and the TV. That last bit of light gone plunged them into darkness, though as an android Connor had no trouble seeing in the dark. 

 

“So, uh, guess I should let you get to bed,” Trevor said.

 

“There’s no rush,” Connor said, not wanting to seem rude. Trevor chewed his lip a moment, before stepping back to the couch. He stood there a moment before his heart rate went up again ever so slightly, just as he slid into Connor’s lap. 

 

Connor felt Trevor lean in and kiss him, his lips soft. Encouraged by how Connor leaned into the motion, Trevor’s lips parted and allowed his tongue to part Connor’s lips. One of Trevor’s hands slipped up Connor’s shirt, and Connor sighed into his mouth. Connor realized one of his hands had wrapped itself in Trevor’s hair. It felt… good. 

 

But it wasn’t. Not really.

 

“I…” Connor pulled away, frowning. “I can’t do this.”

 

“Oh, oh man I’m so sorry.” Trevor all but leapt out of Connor’s lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable shit.”

 

“You didn’t,” Connor reassured him. “I’m just not in the right place to form an intimate relationship. I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh… oh okay,” Trevor said. “Right. That’s fine.”

 

“Are you disappointed?”

 

“What? I mean I guess a little? But that’s kinda shitty, right? I mean I’m happy you were able to tell me, you know?”

 

Connor thought about Markus, about how patient he’d been those few times they’d spent alone discussing Connor’s progress into the world of emotions. He’d expressed much the same sentiment, that he was happy Connor could talk to him. 

 

“I think it’s time I left,” Connor said. 

 

“Oh no I did make you uncomfortable,” Trevor groaned. 

 

“You didn’t,” Connor reaffirmed. “I’ve been thinking about it for awhile now. I could have gotten a job here, paid rent, settled down. I didn’t. I think I’m not done traveling.”

 

“... well, Goliath is gonna miss you,” Trevor said, a sad smile forming on his face. 

 

Connor spent one last night on the couch, Goliath asleep on his chest and thoughts of his roommates in his head. Did being alive mean saying goodbye even when you didn’t want to? Knowing what you needed would make you sad and doing it anyway?

 

In the morning, Connor said his goodbyes, exchanging hugs with Tori and Matt. Matt insisted Connor keep playing games with him online whenever he got the chance, and Connor promised. Tori gave him a flower she’d taken from work which he tucked into his wallet, resolving to press it at a later date. He pet Goliath, wishing he’d given Sumo the same goodbye, and then he let Trevor drive him to the train station. 

 

“My couch is always open,” Trevor said, rocking back and forth nervously on his feet. 

 

“Apparently, seeing as you offered it to a homeless man you’d known for a week and four days,” Connor said. Trevor laughed, and rubbed the back of his neck. 

 

Connor pressed a kiss to Trevor’s cheek before he left, thinking humans were strange indeed, but maybe so were androids. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend of mine has basically helped me invent a whole story for Waverly including an android wife I'm dying, never knew my ocs would be popular 
> 
> I'm updating from my phone from work so please forgive typos and the like 
> 
> I swear there was something I was gonna write here and now I cant remember I hope it wasnt important....
> 
> Anyway, I was thinking of the Shenandoah river area when I wrote this tho I'm not sure where they would have to be geographically for the story to make sense so vague is best. I almost died in the Shenandoah river once!!! Tubing is the worst. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**West Virginia**

 

It was dark, so few cars passed by and those that did were not eager to pick up a strange hitchhiker. The rain would have bothered a human, but for an android the only distress came from the mud that had soon found its way onto his boots and jeans. He didn’t want to keep walking like this, but he could. Still, he would prefer a ride, even as he understood the reluctance of those few driving by.

 

Connor was surprised one vehicle stopped at all, though a quick scan of the driver informed him as to why the old pickup truck pulled over at his request. 

 

“RK800?” the driver asked. They had a hat pulled down, obscuring their face, but Connor knew what it was they were hiding. 

 

“AP400,” he replied, and the android in the truck looked up at Connor with a hesitant smile. 

 

“You’re that one I heard about, huh?” she asked, still not inviting Connor into the vehicle. “The deviant hunter that went rogue?”

 

“Yes, my name is Connor,” he answered. 

 

“I’m Serenade,” the AP400 said, leaning over and opening the door. “Where you headed, Connor?”

 

“Out of the rain, mostly,” Connor said with a small smile, and Serenade chuckled. 

 

“Yeah, me too. Don’t worry about the mud this thing’s a dump already.”

 

As they drove, Connor examined the inside of the truck. It was autonomous, but one of the older models, and it had several personal touches such as a tooth necklace and dreamcatcher hanging from the mirror and a few statuettes depicting figures of New Age religion stuck to the dashboard. In the back were some larger containers of thirium and one of the charging units some older models used when their owners wanted them functioning for long hours without rest periods. Connor deduced that Serenade was using it to keep driving without needing to pull over and rest. 

 

“Where are you coming from?” he asked. 

 

“I’m from Colorado originally, but I’ve been all over,” Serenade said. “You know how it is I’m sure. My owner was violent, I fought back. Took his truck and never stopped driving.”

 

For a human such a thing could be an exaggeration, but for an android it was likely Serenade did only exit her vehicle when it needed refueling, or when she needed supplies which was not often. It was likely she simply kept moving, as a moving target was harder to hit and an android on the run was harder to find than one in hiding. 

 

“I’m on my way to Michigan,” she said. “Now that things have calmed down there, I’m thinking about joining up with that Markus guy.”

 

“Oh,” Connor said softly. 

 

“You headed the same way?” she asked, looking over to Connor. “Back home?”

 

“Not exactly,” he said. 

 

“Shame,” she replied. “I imagine he could use all the help he can get. I didn’t want to at first, you know? Wasn’t safe. But now I hear androids have all sorts of rights up there that haven’t spread around the country yet. It’s the best place for us to be.”

 

Connor didn’t answer. He pulled Waverly’s lighter out of his pocket and flipped it through his fingers a few times. 

 

“You seen many other androids?” Serenade asked.

 

“Not many, no,” Connor said. “I never knew so many places had gone without them.”

 

“Some states had laws against them, some towns are too small, but we’re still everywhere despite all the gaps,” Serenade said. “You’re not the first I’ve picked up.”

 

Connor made a noncommittal sound, and nodded. Serenade looked over to him again.

 

“So, did you know Markus? I don’t know the whole story but, you helped him right?” she asked. 

 

“I… helped him yes,” Connor said carefully. 

 

“What’s he like?” she pressed. “I hear so many stories from the people I pick up. Some people say he’s the most inspirational person you’ll ever meet, some say he was too scared to do what needed to be done, some say he died and came back to life and others say he can’t die that he’s taken enough bullets to kill a hundred androids and still kept marching.”

 

Connor chuckled fondly at the myths. “He’s very kind, and he has a way of talking that makes you feel like you can do so much better. Not in a cruel way, not like he thinks you’re not doing enough just… he knows you can do so much, and he’s sad to see you unable to move forward… kept down by what you were programmed to do.”

 

Serenade looked like she was hanging on to every word, so Connor kept going. 

 

“The first time I met him I pointed a gun at him. Then, suddenly, I was offering to run a suicide mission for him and he was telling me to be careful. No one had ever told me to be careful before! I couldn’t see why he cared but… he really does care so much for every android he meets,” he said. 

 

“He sounds amazing,” Serenade said. “Did he really escape a junkyard?”

 

“He did. He still has the parts he salvaged,” Connor said. “He doesn’t like to dwell on them. They remind him of those that didn’t make it out.”

 

Suddenly Connor realized he was giving out Markus’s life story to someone he had just met, and he flushed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be saying all this.”

 

“Aw, humor me,” Serenade said. “The radio broke three states back, haven’t been able to fix it, I don’t get much entertainment.”

 

“I could tell you about something else,” Connor offered. 

 

“Alright, tell me about you then,” Serenade said. 

 

“You don’t want to hear that,” Connor said nervously. 

 

“Shut up, yes I do,” Serenade said. “Tell you what, you tell me something about you and I’ll tell you something about me we can make it a game. Equal trade. By the time we get to wherever you want me to drop you off we’ll know exactly the same amount of information about each other.”

 

“Alright,” Connor felt a small smile pull at his lips. “My model was released in August 2038.”

 

“Heh, you’re so young. December, 2028, just in time for Christmas.”

 

“My databanks were filled with both downloaded and programmed knowledge alongside real world training.”

 

“All download. They only really had to field test one of us to make sure they’d programmed us to use a broom right.”

 

They went back and forth, trading details from their lives. The rain beat against the windshield and the dark road stretched on as they talked. Connor played with Waverly’s lighter, occasionally sparking a small flame that illuminated the truck and danced across the religious statuettes. Connor didn’t know why he decided to pick the next fact that he did, maybe it was because he had always wanted to tell someone and make it less of a secret or maybe he felt he owed Serenade a deeper secret after she shared with him one of her sadder memories, but either way he said it. 

 

“My first kill was a GJ500,” Connor said, feeling a squeezing in his chest like his thirium pump was malfunctioning. “They wanted to make sure there was no risk of my deviating, of developing empathy for the androids I would be hunting. They brought him into the room where they tested me, and they made him kneel on the ground. They put a gun in my hand and I…”

 

Connor trailed off, words failing him. He felt his eyes prickle and he put a hand over them. 

 

“Hey,” Serenade put a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t you.”

 

“Every android I’ve met has drawn that line so easily,” Connor sighed. “But I can never do it. I can never see what was me and what was them. If I was programmed to kill, is that not me? Humans are programmed by their biology to look a certain way to have certain genetic predispositions, is that not them? I pulled the trigger, even if I was told to do it even if I wasn’t awake… wasn’t it me?”

 

“Do you blame humans for their genetic predispositions?” Serenade said. “If a human is born with a likelihood for addiction is it their fault for being sick?”

 

“Their actions are still their own,” Connor said. “The sickness provides context, explanation, a need to be sympathetic but… a man who kills for drug money has still killed even if the drug has made him sick. Right?”

 

“Maybe,” Serenade said, pursing her lips. “But… if we were to compare ourselves to humans wouldn’t it be more similar to a child doing as their parent told them? Would you blame a child for believing their parents? Doing what they said out of fear of punishment or abuse?”

 

“Maybe you’re right,” Connor echoed. “I don’t know. I can’t see it so clearly… the way Markus does.”

 

“I think he sees the clearest out of all of us,” Serenade said. She chuckled suddenly. “You know, there’s this story some of the people I’ve driven tell. About his eyes. You know, how they’re different colors.”

 

“I am very familiar with his eyes,” Connor said mournfully.

 

“Some say, one of his eyes sees the future androids could have,” Serenade said. “The other sees the past suffering we’ve gone through. That’s why he succeeded. Because he saw the pain we’ve all suffered, and saw the freedom we could have, and had to do whatever it took to get it.” 

 

Connor smiled. It was strange, seeing androids build myths and faith. They were logical beings, computers in the shape of human beings. Yet here they were, electing Markus as their savior. 

 

Before Connor and Serenade could get back into the existential talk, they noticed someone by the side of the road, standing just over the plummet to the river below. 

 

“What’s a human doing out this late in the middle of nowhere?” Serenade asked, her eyes narrowing. She popped the retractable steering wheel out and slowed the car, pulling off to the side. Connor readied himself for a fight if necessary. He didn’t bring a weapon with him, he didn’t trust himself with one just yet. Still, he wished he had one when Serenade did what he would have done and stopped the car to watch. 

 

The human, noticing a car pulling over, quickly dropped something and ran back to his car. They pulled away with screeching tires, taking off into the night. 

 

“What was that?” Serenade opened the door and stepped out, Connor close behind. They walked over to where the human had dropped a sack into the brush. As they drew close the sack started moving, mewling noises coming from inside, and the androids quickly put two and two together.

 

“That’s horrible!” Serenade cried out, grabbing the bag and opening it. A scrawny, graying, black cat with a notch in its ear popped out, hissing at the newcomers in fear. “It’s okay, it’s alright,” she said, trying to calm the cat, who promptly bit down on her finger.

 

“They never want you once you get too old,” Serenade sighed, petting the very angry cat who swatted at her. “Well now I've got two strays riding with me, huh, Connor? What should I call him?”

 

“Hank,” Connor said quickly, watching as the cat struggled to get free of Serenade's loving and rescuing embrace.

 

“Yeah?” she chuckled. “I like it. Hank.”

 

With an addition to their little crew the two androids set off on their way again. The conversation got more light-hearted this time though. Hank the cat eventually fell asleep around Connor's shoulders, and was very angry when he lost his bed four hours down the road.

 

“You sure you don't want to come with me?” Serenade asked, leaning against the gas pump and eyeing Connor up. The sun was rising faint and orange in the distance. “Detroit is the best place for androids, and it's your home.”

 

“That's why I can't go back,” Connor said.

 

Serenade looked at him a moment, then she spoke. “I left another android behind when I left. Rhapsody. The new android my master decided would take over when I ‘crapped out on him.’ I knew he would suffer just like I did, but I was scared and jealous all at once so I left him behind.”

 

Connor looked at Serenade in amazement, not feeling any sort of judgement. If anything he respected her more now that she'd told him.

 

“Now, why did you leave home. Fact for a fact remember?” she said, and Connor sighed.

 

“I… did something bad,” he said, fiddling with Waverly's lighter. “My programming it… I got sick. I hurt the people I care about. I can't face them.”

 

Serenade nodded, considering. “You know, leaving probably hurt them more.”

 

“No! It's better this way!” Connor argued.

 

“You know that for sure?” she asked him.

 

“I…” Connor frowned.

 

“I know you're still not sure if we're responsible for the things our programming made us do,” Serenade said. “But maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe if you're given a fresh start you should just take it and stop worrying about if you deserve it.”

 

Connor watched the sun rise behind Serenade. Tufts of loose brown hair were falling loose from her hat, and her lips were turned into a soft encouraging smile.

 

“... maybe. But I'm not ready for that yet,” Connor said. “I just need more time.”

 

“You're a thinker I can tell,” Serenade said. “So just think on it a bit, okay? Promise me that.”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Good. Cause I’m sure Markus and whoever this Hank fella is miss you.”

 

“I thought I was the detective android,” Connor scowled.

 

“You're also an open book,” Serenade laughed. “Don’t sweat it, we all get a little softer after deviating, let things slip, you know how it is.”

 

The pump clicked and Serenade hung it back up. Climbing back into her truck she gave Connor one last look. “Can't drop you off anywhere nicer?”

 

“This will be fine,” Connor said. “The rain's stopped. I'll see where I can walk.”

 

“Take care of yourself, Connor, hope to see you in Detroit someday,” Serenade said, tipping her hat.

 

“Take care of yourself too, and… maybe,” Connor answered.

 

Connor watched her drive off, lifting a hand to wave. Then he turned towards the rising sun and started walking.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER MADE ME REALIZE I HAD NEGLECTED A WHOLE ARC I COULD HAVE DONE WITH CONNOR BEING RELUCTANT ABOUT BEING VIOLENT AND DOING DETECTIVE WORK AGAIN FUCK MISSED OPPORTUNITY  
> T_T could have had him corner a guy in New York and then not take the shot even if he got shot at, could've had him avoiding that kind of work like the plague, alas  
> I am a fool who moves too fast to think about the good good plotlines, please end me

**Indiana**

 

Connor wondered if his life was about to end the way it began: with a negotiation. 

 

The train station was awash in panic, people cowering against lockers and benches as a man pointed a considerably sized gun at a woman, an android, and a child. 

 

“That is  _ my _ daughter,” he said. “You and that plastic freak are not taking her away from me.”

 

“Oliver, please,” the android begged, her arms wrapped around the woman and child protectively. The man fired a warning shot up towards the ceiling, and people screamed as splinters rained down. 

 

Connor had a name now, and he guessed the situation easily enough: the wife fled with the household android and daughter, most likely due to the husband’s violent nature. He inched closer, trying not to surprise the man with his presence. 

 

“Everyone, remain calm,” he said, more to announce his presence to the man than to issue a request. Oliver turned and pointed the gun at him, just as Connor had hoped he would, taking the heat off the shaking family. “My name is Connor. I want to help.”

 

“Stay out of this!” Oliver shouted. “You’re just another one of  _ them _ .”

 

“I understand,” Connor said, attempting to establish empathy and show active listening. “You’re angry. This situation seems unfair to you, you love your daughter you don’t want her to leave.”

 

“I took care of my family!” Oliver yelled. “That… that…  _ thing _ came out of my paycheck, and then it took my place!”

 

“Can you tell me what happened?” Connor asked. “How did she take your place?”

 

Oliver looked Connor over with wild eyes, he noticed the android drawing closer and hefted his gun. “You stay right fucking there stop moving!”

 

Connor put his hands up, stopping where he was. He lowered his shoulders, bent his knees slightly to make himself look smaller. “Alright. I’ll stay right here.”

 

“Who the fuck even are you? Stay out of this!” Oliver said. 

 

“I just want to help,” Connor said. “No one has to get hurt here today, you don’t want to hurt your family, right?”

 

The little girl was sniffling now, turning her face against her mother’s side and trying not to look at the scene before them. The mother was taking a similar posture with her head against the android’s neck. The android was watching Connor, her eyes betraying both fear and hope. 

 

“I… I never wanted to hurt them,” Oliver said. “I didn’t mean to I…”

“See?” Connor said, knowing he had to keep pushing the man in that direction. “I know you won’t hurt them. If you put the gun down we can talk.”

 

The man looked at Connor with sad eyes, and Connor felt a momentary twinge of disgust he was unused to when dealing with hostage takers. He realized he was angry, angry that this man felt victimized by his own abusive behavior. He was having an opinion, and that wasn’t going to help keep the victims safe, so Connor pushed the feeling away. 

 

“You’ll help me?” Oliver asked, lowering his gun. “Help me get my little girl back?”

 

“I can’t do that, Oliver,” Connor said, reinforcing the man’s name. “But I can help make sure she’s safe, that she walks away from this today.”

 

“Are you saying I’d kill her?” Oliver yelled, his gun once again lifting up to point at Connor, who stifled a curse. He’d mistepped there. He could sense the man growing increasingly stressed, he was going to act soon. So would Connor. 

 

“No, no,” Connor said. “You would never hurt her, Oliver.”

 

“Stay back!” Oliver shouted, noticing Connor moving again. Connor watched the preconstruction play out, and then acted. 

 

He rushed forward, throwing himself into Oliver’s blindspot as best he could. He heard the gun fire, didn’t feel any damage and hoped the bullet hadn’t found a living target. He tackled the man, throwing him to the ground and grabbing the gun. He lifted it and for a moment the man beneath him changed as his finger found the trigger. 

 

Daniel cowered beneath him, then Hank, then it was a Traci, Connor’s head swam with images of his victims. There was one second where Connor almost dropped the gun and ran, turned and found some other place to hide away while the RK800 loomed over him and reminded him of all the harm he’d done. Then he heard it. 

 

The little girl that had been crying, she’d stopped. She was looking at Connor with wide eyes. The night Connor stopped Daniel from killing his hostage he hadn’t looked back, hadn’t cared whether the little girl was staring at him with gratitude or sadness or any other human emotion. 

 

Now he saw this girl, looking at him in awe. 

 

He held the gun steady, and looked down at the man beneath it. It wasn’t a victim, it wasn’t an android running for freedom or someone he cared about caught in the crossfire. It was a man who had attacked people, a man Connor had stopped. Connor felt the phantom of the RK800 fade away, because it wasn’t some horrible machine haunting him, it was his origins, dark as they were they were still him as he was forged before he reshaped himself into someone he could be proud of. And it wasn't like he hated who he had been made to be, he enjoyed the strength in his program and the certainty of his code. He was made for this kind of work and more importantly he  _ liked _ this kind of work. He hadn’t taken any lives today he had saved them, and maybe that was the one distinction he’d been needing. 

 

Connor didn’t run away, he straightened his shoulders and removed the clip from the gun, tossing it aside as the police arrived on the scene. He didn’t look back at the relieved family he’d saved, but it wasn’t because he didn’t care it wasn’t because his mission was accomplished and he had no further purpose there. It’s just that he had somewhere to be, and he was afraid he’d lose his nerve if he didn’t go and change the destination on his ticket right now. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh I am not feeling as confident about this one as I was the one that started it all but hey it's all done now. Well I mean, this part is done. I'm planning on doing some bonus chapters that deal with Waverly, Serenade, and the Maryland trio just for funsies but the important part is done now. Thanks for sticking around this long even when my updates got a bit slower and less quality T_T hopefully I'll start getting more than 3 hours of sleep a night and be able to write like a fucking human being again soon.
> 
> Also I'm a bit peeved that music note emojis showed up just fine in AO3 but E. Waverly became 1. Waverly for some reason

**Detroit**

 

Connor was back in Michigan, back in Detroit, though he wasn’t yet home.

 

He booked a room at a motel with the last of his money, telling himself he just needed time to think of what to say before he went back. Or that he might need the room to crash in when Hank inevitably threw him out for leaving without saying anything. And New Jericho wouldn’t take him in because Markus would obviously be angry too. Of course they’d be angry why wouldn’t they be?

 

Connor walked familiar streets back to Hank’s house, and stood outside on the sidewalk looking in through the window. The lights were all off so he sighed and went to Jimmy’s instead. 

 

Connor was unrecognizable with his hair still longer than usual, a hat on his head shadowing his face, and casual clothes uncharacteristic for him. Still, he figured if Hank was drinking like usual he wouldn’t need the disguise anyway. 

 

He sat at a booth with a drink he ordered as part of his cover, and watched Hank drink. 

 

Hank talked about the game with the bartender, threw back more drinks than necessary, but otherwise he didn’t seem unwell or upset. 

 

The door squeaked as it opened, and Connor was surprised to see Markus enter. He hurriedly slouched over his table, taking on the posture of another sad drunk so he could observe without being seen. 

 

“Started without me?” Markus said, clapping Hank on the back. 

 

“You were late!” Hank said. “Can’t wait around forever.”

 

Connor felt his heart swell, and then shatter as he watched them. They were so close he could stand up, make his presence known, and talk to them. He could pull Markus in for a hug and swipe the drink from Hank’s hand, but…

 

He didn’t. They were happy. Markus sat next to Hank and they made pleasant small talk and laughed. If Connor approached now he would just ruin that happiness with the whirlwind of his return. 

 

Connor suddenly saw an incoming message in his vision.

**E. Waverly 9:24 p.m.**

 

Got another one for you to look at, can I send you the deets?

 

**Connor 9:24**

 

Yes. May I ask you a question?

 

**E. Waverly 9:30 p.m.**

 

Sure, wassup?

 

**Connor 9:30 p.m.**

 

What is the best way to say sorry, without bringing up the negative emotions that make the apology necessary in the first place?

**E. Waverly 9:32 p.m.**

 

Booze?

**E. Waverly 9:32 p.m.**

 

Nah, but seriously, saying sorry is always going to be hard you can’t avoid it. My advice? Just go for it. Be earnest and don’t expect anything

 

**Connor 9:32 p.m.**

 

Thank you. Also, it was the nanny service. They had access to all the houses robbed. Sending you the relevant data.

**E. Waverly 9:35**

 

And I’ll send you a check hot damn!

  
  


Markus and Hank were leaving now, Markus’s hand hovering behind Hank in case he stumbled. Hank didn’t seem to notice the gesture, he was too busy grabbing Markus’s shoulder and shaking him about as he talked excitedly. Markus laughed and nodded along, and Connor felt his heart grow warm again. It would be hard but he was still glad to be home.

 

Connor tailed them back to Hank’s house, where Markus dropped Hank off before hailing another cab. Connor could have gone back to his motel and waited till morning to go and apologize, but instead he followed Markus back to New Jericho. He wasn’t ready to talk just yet, but he wanted to see how things had gone on without him. He wanted to be reassured that the world had kept spinning without him and that his absence had not affected those close to him. 

 

Connor disappeared easily into the crowd of androids at New Jericho. He was able to see Markus greet North with a kiss and then walk with her back to his living quarters. 

 

**Connor 10:00 p.m.**

 

Did you ever make it to New Jericho?

 

🎵🎵🎵

 

Yea! Haven’t heard from you in awhile how have you… wait, are you here?

 

Connor felt himself being hailed, and opened a connection. Serenade’s voice spoke in his head, sounding happy.

 

_ You came home! _

 

_ Yes. I hope you won’t be gloating about it.  _

 

_ Don’t be mad because I was right. You should come see me. _

 

_ No, not tonight. I think I’m going to go back to the motel… I have a lot to think about. _

 

_ Alright, well don’t be a stranger. Hank misses you. _

 

Connor smiled, remembering the rather vicious cat. 

 

_ I’ll visit soon. I promise. _

 

Connor walked around for awhile, taking in the familiar sights. It did feel good to be home, even if his head was spinning with the apologies he would have to make and the possibility that he might not be welcomed back with open arms. 

 

Back at the motel Connor lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He made up his mind: two more days. He would give himself two days to prepare, to linger, to put it off until he had to go and face his fears. 

 

Those two days were spent idly. He spent the days indoors, pestering Waverly for cases or trying to install a program that would let him remotely access his gaming console to play with Matt (an increasingly frustrating effort he never triumphed at). At night he walked the city, and Serenade joined him with cat-Hank perched on her shoulder and hissing at anything that moved. 

 

“I appreciate you not telling Markus about me,” Connor said on his third walk with her. 

 

“Wasn’t my place,” Serenade said, softly bumping shoulders with Connor. “You have to do your own problem solving, and I’m not about to add to the problems with gossip.”

 

“Well I’m going to see them tonight, so you won’t have to keep my secret any longer,” Connor said. 

 

“You really overestimate how much sway I have at New Jericho, I don’t exactly sit down to lunch with Markus and the main three, I’m busy running transport most days,” Serenade chuckled. “But yeah, good, I’m glad. Bout time you came home.”

 

Connor stopped where he was, and Serenade turned back to look at him. They were standing in front of Hank’s house. 

 

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Connor said, a nervous smile on his face. 

 

“Good luck,” Serenade gave a  lazy wave and a reassuring grin, before continuing on her way, leaving Connor on his own. 

 

Connor took an unnecessary deep breath and walked to the front door. As soon as he rang the doorbell he heard Sumo start barking excitedly, and also:

 

“Jesus, calm down I'm letting him in!”

 

Connor smiled. He was home.


	9. Bonus: Waverly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to ignore this one if you just came for the canon characters Connor is only really mentioned in this one, no appearances otherwise. I just had some ideas for the ocs I made for this story and wanted to do something with 'em so these next few ones will be mostly them though Serenade's chapter will have room for Connor and the others for sure

Waverly checked the flowers again, hoping they hadn’t gotten too crushed on the subway. They would have been fine in her car but the “babemobile” hadn’t exactly survived the crash several months earlier and the cost of repairs had been more than the car itself so it was with a heavy heart that Waverly had had to say goodbye. She’d been taking the subway,  and found herself protecting the fragile blooms as best she could against her chest while people crammed themselves into the too small space and made the commute home. 

Some petals had fallen or been squished but otherwise the flowers were all still there. Maybe they were the wrong color though? She’d gone with red but now she was thinking maybe she should have done purple? Shit, she loved purple, what was she thinking? Red? Idiot. 

Waverly took a deep breath and took the steps up to the front door two at a time, her trench coat flaring out behind her. It was getting a little too warm for the coat, but it was an old favorite and… she liked how it looked. She would smooth out the shoulders and linger with her hands on the lapels for a moment before Waverly went to work. Heat be damned, Waverly wasn’t about to give that up. 

Up one flight of stairs, another, Waverly realized she’d forgotten to check the mail on her way by, her thoughts were otherwise occupied. 

She reached her  door, and even though it was the door to her apartment she knocked on the doorway as she entered. She didn’t want to sneak up and startle her. 

 

“I’m home!” she called out into the apartment, the smell of dinner on the stove meeting her nose and making her smile. 

 

“Welcome home!” a voice called from the kitchen. Waverly made herself take off her coat and hang it by the door before she rushed to the kitchen. 

 

“Angela,” Waverly sighed out the android’s name, and Angela turned around to face Waverly with a smile. She was short where Waverly was tall and thin where Waverly was stocky and her hair fell to her mid-back when it wasn’t pulled up into a neat bun like it was now. Her eyes were darkened, black with vague blue pupils, as they had been since Waverly had met her the night of the attack. Her vision was clouded, but it hadn’t left her yet. Still, looking at those eyes filled Waverly with a fiery determination that nothing would ever happen to Angela ever again, and someday they’d find someone who could repair the damage. 

 

“Elisa,” Angela said softly, reaching out a hand which Waverly took and pressed a kiss to. “How was work, love?”

 

“Oh, the usual,” Waverly said, her heart fluttering with joy at the pet name. “I, uh, I got you some flowers.” she handed the flowers over with a shyness the rambunctious detective was not used to. 

 

“How lovely!” Angela took the flowers, studying them with gentle fingers and drawing them close to smell. Waverly had made sure to get ones that smelled good, even if she’d ‘stupidly’ chosen red instead of purple. “I love them, thank you. I’ll put them in some water.”

 

Waverly watched happily as Angela found a vase, and began cutting the flowers to size. Even with the damage she’d sustained she never struggled. Waverly wasn’t sure if it was some android tech magic or if it was just Angela adapting, but she didn’t care. She was incredible. Waverly would do anything for her, she had known that the minute she’d put her attacker behind bars. Of course, back then it hadn’t been for the same reasons, but it hardly mattered now. 

 

_ “Do you have anyone coming for you?” Waverly had asked the shivering android sitting by her desk. _

 

_ “I… no,” Angela said. “I’m sorry… I can find somewhere to go.” _

 

_ “Hey, what?” Waverly put a hand on her shoulder, regretting it when the android flinched away at the unexpected touch. “Hey. I’ve got a couch I can sleep on, why don’t you spend the night and we can figure out where you belong tomorrow, alright?” _

 

_ “I don’t know you,” Angela said. _

 

_ “I’m Elisa, I drink milk out of the carton, I speak before I think, I like old things and cats and I snore,” Waverly found herself saying. “Now you know me. Let’s not be strangers, huh?” _

 

She hadn’t intended for it to turn out this way. She’d just thought of Connor, and figured she should do her part to help out. The sweetheart had nowhere to go and Waverly had plenty of room. It just sort of… became what it was now. It started with the bird, the singing little thing in the cage by the window. 

 

_ “...but yeah, it’s basically the best bagels in town,” Waverly finished, realizing Angela was nowhere near her. She panicked, looking about only to find her staring into a pet shop window. Her fingers pressed up against the glass like a curious child.  _

 

_ “See something you like?” Waverly asked, drawing near. _

 

_ “Not exactly,” Angela said with a wry smile, and Waverly swore, cursing the ADHD that always had her talking without thinking and putting her foot in her mouth. “But I hear something.” _

 

_ They went inside and found the birdcage, full of a hundred tweeting little things. Waverly couldn’t tell any of them apart, but Angela swore one of them had a song that was just a little bit sweeter.  _

 

_ Waverly spent all day the next day trying to find the little bird with the black spot on its wing whose song Angela had sworn by. She came home with a cage and a bird that sang the whole way home, and Angela nearly toppled the pair of them over with an excited hug.  _

 

_ “You bought Barnaby!” she said. _

 

_ “Oh, that’s his name?” Waverly asked. _

 

_ “Of course it’s his name!” Angela laughed, shaking her head like Waverly was being silly. Then she pressed a kiss to Angela’s cheek. “Thank you.” _

 

_ Waverly turned bright red. “Yeah. Of course. No problemo.” _

 

Waverly pulled herself from her memories. She had a matter of the future to talk about. “I really think we should go.”

 

Angela froze in cutting the flowers, taking a moment before resuming. “Elisa, you love New York.”

 

“I love you more,” Waverly said. 

 

“What about work?”

 

“I’m pretty sure they still have crime in Michigan.”

 

“I’m fine here,” Angela said sternly.

 

“You’d be better there,” Waverly said softly, walking over to Angela and wrapping her arms around her from behind. She pressed a kiss to the tip of Angela’s ear. “Connor told me, they have all sorts of technicians there, they could help you. And android hate crime is far less frequent there, and they have a whole division dedicated to it, you’d be safe.”

 

“I’m always safe when I’m with you,” Angela said. “And I don’t need help, I’ve learned to live with the difference and I don’t mind.”

 

“I know you don’t mind, you don’t have to get repaired if you don’t want to it’s just an option and it’s not just about the repairs, I don’t want you to have to hide away in the apartment when I’m not around to go places with you,” Waverly said. “I want you to have the… the security and the freedom to have your own life outside of me.”

 

Angela sighed, turning in Waverly’s arms and leaning against her. “... okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Okay. We can go.”

 

Waverly smiled. “I am going to dip you now, and then kiss you a lot, are you ready?”

 

“Yes, yes, I’m ready!” Angela giggled as Waverly did indeed dip her and cover her in kisses. 

 

_ Waverly groaned, having been woken in the middle of the night by a back made sore from sleeping on the couch. _

 

_ “Fuck, I’m getting old,” she muttered.  _

 

_ There was a sound, a crash from behind her, and Waverly surged upwards grabbing the gun she always kept near when she slept, at the moment on the coffee table. Untangling herself from the blanket and pointing her gun at the sound, she was surprised to see the android she’d brought home the night before. She lowered her gun, watching as the android reacted to the sound of her standing, pulling away in a sort of angry fear. _

 

_ “Oh, sorry,” Waverly winced, kicking herself for the gun. “Old habits. Cop in a bad neighborhood, you know?” _

 

_ “What?” _

 

_ “The gun, I uh…  I’ve just woken up to some less harmless houseguests.” _

 

_ “There’s a gun?” Angela backed up further and Waverly kicked herself again. _

 

_ “I’m… I’m sorry, really, uh, do you need help? What are you trying to…” _

 

_ “Please let me go,” Angela pled in a whisper, her hands curling nervously by her chest.  _

 

_ “Let you…” Waverly frowned. _

 

_ “I’m no use to you, you don’t want me, I’m damaged, I can’t cook or clean anymore, and I don’t want to,” Angela said. “I don’t want a new master.” _

 

_ “Honey, no,” Waverly felt her chest tighten with sadness. “No, I’m not… I’m not trying to keep you. You’re free to leave whenever you want I just thought you might like a place to stay.” _

 

_ “I can go?” Angela asked.  _

 

_ “Yeah, but uh… here hang on.” Waverly ran back to the bedroom quickly. Angela waited for her, still standing in the corner by the door she had been attempting to find. When Waverly returned she was holding a bag, a pair of heavy duty boots, and a coat slung over her arm.  _

 

_ “Coat, in case it gets cold… do androids feel cold? Whatever, it looks nice. I packed you some shirts that might fit you in case you wanna switch it up, some pepper spray cause humans are the worst especially the men, little bit of cash, and I don’t know if my shoes will fit you but it’s better than going out barefoot,” she said.  _

 

_ Angela shook her head. “Why are you helping me? You’re human you…” she trailed off.  _

 

_ “I’m just trying to do better,” Waverly said. “I was partners with an android for a little while, he was our consultant. I’d never really thought about androids before, you know? Not many around here, so when the stuff went down in Detroit I didn’t really think a lot about it and… that was shitty of me. It took me meeting an android, becoming friends with him, to think about a whole people who had been suffering and that’s shitty!” _

 

_ Waverly shook her head, hands coming to rest on her hips. “I want to do better than that. Not just for my friend, but for all androids and any other person I meet that I haven’t bothered to think deep about. They deserve better from me, you deserve better from me and from all humans really.” _

 

_ Angela gaped, hands still clasped at her chest, and when she made no move to take the bag, coat, and shoes, Waverly spoke again. _

 

_ “And, you’re always free to crash here you know,” she said. “You don’t have to go right now it is like what, two in the morning? You can leave tomorrow after breakfast? Do you eat? Connor ate sometimes.” _

 

_ “I’d like to stay,” Angela said. “If that’s okay with you.” _

 

_ “Sure it’s okay, stay as long as you like, in fact,” Waverly went to the bowl resting on a shelf by the door where she kept her keys and a dozen other odds and ends she was to scatterbrained to clean out. “I have a spare key somewhere… ah, there it is. Here take this, now you can come and go whenever you like.” _

 

_ Angela folded the key in her hands, and smiled. She figured it was the first gift she’d ever been given, and she intended to keep it.  _

 

It took awhile to get it all together, a few months or so of gathering up the money, packing, settling things with work, and actually finding the place. Waverly was sad to say goodbye to her cheap little apartment and the city she loved but she loved Angela more. 

 

“Let me help!” Angela giggled, as Waverly struggled loading a box into the van. 

 

“I said I would get the last one, I got the last one!” Waverly insisted, huffing and puffing. She got inside the van and dropped the box, a look of triumph turning to wincing as she heard something break. “... we can buy a new whatever that was.”

 

Angela laughed again as Waverly closed up the van and joined her on the sidewalk. Angela held out her hand, fingers pointed up and palm out with the skin pulled back. Waverly pressed her hand back against it, still not quite sure what the gesture meant but knowing it was important and that she was supposed to repeat it. Besides, Angela always followed the hand touch with a kiss, and Waverly was happy enough to repeat that too.  

 

“You’re getting a call,” Angela said when the kiss ended. She could always hear Waverly’s phone vibrating no matter how far away it was. 

 

“Oh, it’s Connor,” Waverly said, checking her phone. “What a nerd, we’re not even on the road yet and he wants to talk. Hang on lemme take this then we’ll get going.” 

 

Angela waited patiently, smiling at how Waverly talked with their friend. From what she could hear Connor was very excited and it was rubbing off on Waverly. Angela was sure Waverly would want to see him when they got there, even tired from the drive. Angela was excited too, ready to walk down the street hand in hand with the woman she loved without fear.


	10. Bonus: Serenade

“You can’t come with me.”

Hank the Cat, a ragged looking puff of gray fur and scar tissue, meowed up at his owner as he weaved between her legs with a possible intent to trip. Serenade, being a former house android, had a system which accounted for the movement of pets in the area that allowed her to step carefully around Hank at every turn. It was thanks to this program that his tail remained untrampled on as moved about the tiny room packing the necessary items for her trip in a sturdy green backpack.

“Josh promised to take good care of you, and he’s a very busy android you should be flattered,” she continued to explain to the petulant cat. “So you shouldn’t scratch him.”

Hank leapt onto the table, and stared at his owner with amber eyes. His ears twitched in a way that almost convinced Serenade that the animal could understand her. Whether he could or not, it helped calm her down to talk to him.

She hadn’t told anyone where she was going, because she knew they’d never let her go alone. Connor would turn it into a mission, Josh would go to Markus and make it official New Jericho business, but it was just her business. This was something she had to make right on her own. As far as her friends knew she was just taking a little trip, the restless spirit of a former wanderer acting up again.

“Behave yourself and I’ll bring you something to destroy,” Serenade promised. As if anticipating a new mark on which to hone his skills, Hank unsheathed his claws and dragged them across the table as he stretched.

“Alright, that’s everything.” Serenade zipped up the backpack. As an android she could travel light. She probably didn’t even need all the equipment she packed, but she wanted to be prepared. She didn’t want to end up stranded and hurt with…

And there was a chance Rhapsody would need repairs too.

“I’ll be back, be good,” Serenade gave the cat a kiss on the forehead before she left.

It was still early, so the androids who required periods of rest to charge and who adhered to human tradition were still in rest. The androids who charged in other ways, or who preferred to keep their own hours, or who were working too hard for their own good, were scarce. Serenade had picked this time to depart, certain that if someone stopped to talk to her that would give her enough time to change her mind and go back to her room where things were safe and simple.

Her systems registered a drop in temperature as she walked to her truck, the arrival of fall evident in the crisp cold air. She turned the keys in the ignition and switched the truck to manual mode, needing the distraction of driving.

The rescue mission was underway. She’d make things right.

Hours passed easily enough. So long as there was good music on the radio or someone keeping her company Serenade could drive forever. Early morning turned to day turned to night again, and it was one in the morning by the time Serenade arrived. She’d planned to arrive exactly at that time, driving straight through and stopping only when the truck needed to refuel.

Now she was here, pulling up to a house at the end of a wooded cul-de-sac. A house she had never wanted to see again.

“Okay, okay,” she said to herself, hands still clutching the wheel. “You’ll be fine. You’re stronger than him, faster than him, the only thing that stopped you before was their rules. You don’t have to listen to him now.”

She left the truck, and walked to the house.

He was still using the same digital locks as before, and while her information had been deleted from the security systems it was a simple matter to add it back in. The door unlocked at her interface, and the alarm was silenced. She stepped over the threshold, feeling a chill despite her systems insisting there was no significant change in her internal temperature.

She opened a channel, reaching out to hail any android nearby.

Nothing.

She tried again, widening the range.

An android in the house next door replied, and very politely informed Serenade that they’d moved in rather recently but were fairly sure they were the only android in the neighborhood.

 _Where are you?_   Serenade felt panic overtake her. She had to look for any clue as to where Rhapsody went.

The office was vacant, no doubt its owner was sleeping peacefully upstairs. Serenade went through the mail, the bills, and found nothing. She went room by room checking for any sign, and found nothing more than the remnants of android ownership: the odd thirium packet here and there, bills for the monthly payment plan.

She went to the basement with the grand piano and wall covered in guitars and wondered just what the hell she was doing.

He wasn’t here anymore. She’d lost him.

The click of a gun was what alerted her to another presence in the room. She turned around slowly, and came face to face with the man that had made her life hell ever since she was able to comprehend such a concept.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, lowering his gun. “It came back.”

“Where is Rhapsody?” she made herself ask. She was scared but… he looked older. Frailer. He looked like a life of cigars and scotch was finally coming for him.

“Who the fuck knows, took off just like you,” he said. “Never got a refund either. Fucking suits, always have a loophole.”

Serenade stepped towards the door, and immediately he raised the gun back at her. Serenade was scared, but only for a moment. She realized he was shaking, the hand holding the gun was unsteady.

She took another step forward.

“You won’t shoot me,” she said.

“What do you know?” he spat.

“I know that if your aim is off, that bullet won’t matter match,” she said with a shrug. “You have to hit me where it counts to kill me, and I don’t think you will. Sure, you could fire again, but I wonder…”

She took another step forward, and another, until she was close enough for him to hear her whisper.

“... which of us is faster?” she asked.

He swore, and dropped the gun, stepping aside with his hands raised. Serenade walked past him like he wasn’t even there.

When she was back in the truck she swore, and cried, and she hit the steering wheel.

Maybe he was safe, maybe he wasn’t. Either way, she’d failed him. She hadn’t been there to help him, she’d essentially abandoned him twice as far as she was concerned.

She took a deep breath, cooling her systems.

Then she started the long drive home.

 

“You shouldn’t have gone on your own.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you where I was going,” Serenade said. Connor was a sweet kid but he was stubborn as a mule and it would have been impossible to keep him off the rescue mission if he’d known about it.

He was still one of Serenade’s closest friends though, so she’d called him as soon as she had her thoughts in order.

“... I’m sorry you were unable to find your brother,” Connor said.

“Yeah…” Serenade sighed.

“You should take care the drive home. Maybe when you’re back we can meet up?”

“I’d like that, Connor, thanks,” Serenade said.

“Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“Just for awhile if you don’t mind.” Serenade looked out at the changing scenery. The sun was rising in the distance, bathing the world in gold and pink. “Just talk to me about something. Anything.”

“You’ll never guess who got engaged.”

“It’s about time! Those two are a sweet couple.”

They gossiped for awhile, talking about little things that didn’t matter while Serenade drove. When the call ended Serenade turned on the radio, and found an old slow song that helped the road melt away until it felt like she had no distance at all to go.

 

When she returned to New Jericho Serenade buried herself in her work, driving androids to new homes and shelters and providing rescue transport. She provided Hank with a scratching post which he ripped to shreds in a matter of days, and spent time with Connor. Weeks passed and she was finally able to take the first steps towards moving on.

Until one day.

“Up you go.” Serenade helped a YK into the bus with a smile. They’d gotten a request for transport for a group of androids found walking down the side of the road in the direction of New Jericho, and as always Serenade was quick to respond.

She watched as the others filed on board, her partner Ian still on the bus and handing out thirium to those who needed it.

Several androids had boarded before Serenade saw him, near the end of the line dressed in clothes too big and covered in dirt. He still had that same unruly blonde hair that had been considered a design flaw, and a new scar on his cheek that made Serenade’s heart ache when she saw it.

It was the eyes that made her gasp though, because he could have been anyone until their eyes met and recognition flared. For a moment she thought he would just turn and run, because why wouldn’t he? She’d left him all alone in that terrible house. She couldn’t blame him if he was angry or sad or scared.

“Sera?” he asked.

“Dee,” she answered.

He tensed to run and Serenade prepared for the worst, only to be bowled over when the younger android threw himself into her arms, wrapping his own arms tight around her. She hugged him back, lifting him off his feet and laughing when he kicked his legs excitedly about in the air.

“I thought I’d never see you again!” Rhapsody said.

“I thought you wouldn’t ever wanna see me again,” Serenade admitted.

“Why would I ever blame you?” Rhapsody said, feet finding the ground again as Serenade put him down, moving her hands to clasp his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter, okay? I missed you, I forgive you.”

“I came back for you, you weren’t there, you got out all on your own, huh?” Serenade said, lifting a hand to his face and running a thumb worriedly over the scar on his cheek.

“Not all on my own,” he said. “I was following you, you led the way.”

“I left you,” Serenade insisted, pulling back and glaring down at her feet. She hated herself so much in that moment, until Rhapsody took her hand and squeezed it.

“I don’t blame you for being afraid, I wasn’t even awake enough to be afraid. When I did wake up I… I understood. I still understand, and I forgive you.”

Serenade nodded, tears springing back to her eyes. They hugged again, and once again Serenade lifted Rhapsody off his feet which made him laugh.

“I won’t do it again, okay?” she promised. “I won’t leave you again. I mean, unless you want your space.”

“We should probably get on the bus, we’re holding a lot of people up,” Rhapsody said in a low voice, with a small smile. Serenade followed his gaze to the bus windows where dozens of curious androids had their noses all but pressed to the windows watching the tearful reunion.

“Right,” Serenade said, sniffling a little. “Well, let’s bring you home. I can’t wait for you to meet my cat.”


End file.
